


Breathe In And Get a Bit Higher

by tryslora



Series: Daddy's Little Girl [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Class Differences, Community: kink_bingo, Double Penetration, Impregnation, Messy, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily Luna wants the lowly gardener, and what Lily Luna wants, Lily Luna gets. Thankfully, Neville doesn't mind being gotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe In And Get a Bit Higher

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Podfic] Daddy's Little Girl: a series by tryslora](https://archiveofourown.org/works/590486) by [teas_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teas_me/pseuds/teas_me). 



> This was written for the Class Fantasies square for kink_bingo. Also, JK Rowling owns the world and characters of Harry Potter; I'm just doing things she'd never even consider with them.

Neville likes the feeling of dirt under his fingernails.

He likes the way the earth feels when he shoves his hands deep within it, and the rich scent of loam that escapes when he breaches the ground. He can lose himself in this, digging deep, large hands cradling delicate roots as he moves the dreaming zinnias from their original potting tray to their new, fresh bed. The plants nap for the moment, their small red flowers wilted, a soft buzzing snore barely audible. The larger they grow, the more noticeable the sound will be. He loves these flowers when they are full grown, their petals curled like arms around tired bodies as they sleep.

The sun is warm on his back, so he strips off his robes, laying them to one side along with his shirt. It leaves him bare to the waist, his feet bare as well, toes anchored in the damp earth. This is his domain.

He loses himself in the routine, not caring about the streaks of dirt left on his arms and legs, or the stripe that goes across his forehead after he wipes sweat away. Hours pass as he works, and the freshly tilled earth fills with flowers. The dreaming zinnias go in, as well as fire lilies and tea roses, the flickering flames and delicate drips of tea showing him that the flowers are taking to their new home well.

“I rather like our new gardner, darling.”

Neville looks up when he hears her voice, drawn from the reverie that the familiarity of work has sent him into. They are a couple, and they have stopped on their walk along the path to observe him. He brushes his fringe back from his face and stands to nod to them politely, waiting, but they do not nod back.

She is small and willowy, a lithe, slender figure beneath her well-fitting expensive robes. Her small hand is tucked into the crook of her companion’s arm. The man and woman of the manor, Neville knows. They are upper class, and he is beneath their notice. He ducks his head and kneels again, shoving his hands into the dirt to work once more.

“He’s fit,” the man agrees, his tone elegant and patrician. It matches his looks: pale hair, a pointed chin, and silvered-grey eyes. He is the epitome of a pureblood.

Unlike his companion who seems to be on fire with her mass of red curls around her face, and the freckles scattered across her skin. She turns, and Neville glances up to see her neckline gap, offering a teasing glimpse of skin beneath. Freckles there, too, scattered across the upper curve of her breast. He fights to keep his breath even, because he _knows_ where those freckles travel. He knows how each freckle tastes, with the salt of her skin and a scent that is purely Lily Luna Potter. His hands clench as he keeps his role; he is the gardener, and he is not in charge.

“He’s _terribly_ fit.” She stands behind him now, fingers trailing down his spine. “I like him, Draco. I _want_ him.”

“Do you?” Draco drawls. Neville can see him out of the corner of his eye, leaning against the potting bench, the Manor looming in the background. “And how, exactly, do you want him, Lily Luna? Do you want this dirty, filthy gardener to fuck you?”

He loves how her eyes light, bright and impish as she grins. “No,” she says. “I want to fuck _him_.”

“Lie down.” Draco’s words are quick and sharp, and Neville gives him a look.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Neville is normally in charge in this relationship, although this is only roleplay. But when he hesitates, two small hands press the center of his chest, pale against his tanned skin, and Lily Luna pushes him backwards. “Lie down,” she repeats. “He’s going to watch while I ride you, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll help out.”

Neville lies down as her hands slide down his front to his jeans. She teases him, pressing against the ridge where he is already hard inside his jeans. He’s dressed as a Muggle; she looks like a pureblood. The difference is stark as she fumbles the zipper. By the time she frees him, he is aching for her touch, but she barely skims over his hard length. She pushes his jeans down and he feels Draco tug them off while Lily straddles his hips.

Her robes gap open, just a bit, at the throat. Neville reaches up and draws a finger down the line of skin he can see, leaving traces of dirt behind. Her breath catches, and he can feel her heartbeat beneath the skin, and he smiles. He slides his hand beneath the fine silk of her robes, feeling it catch against the roughness of his own skin. She is naked beneath, her small breast waiting for him as he cups it, thumb teasing her nipple until she gasps and rolls her hips.

“Make her come before you fuck her,” Draco whispers, and he crouches there next to Neville, not touching him. “Put those dirty hands on her, gardener. Kiss her breasts. Shove your fingers inside of her until she screams.”

This is an order Neville doesn’t mind taking. He tugs at the silk of her robes and doesn’t care that it rips; he just wants to see her breasts. He wants to caress those high peaked nipples and hear her moan when he is rough, letting his palm rub against one breast while he takes the other into his mouth. Her hips grind down against his, the silk of her robes still tangled beneath her, soft over his prick. It is almost too much, but Neville is used to waiting. He has control.

His hand presses against her hip, slipping under her robes. He feels the grit beneath his fingertips and knows he is marring her perfect skin with it, and he doesn’t care. Lily arches into his touch as his fingers stray close to her center, but he only drifts over her sparse curls, teasing her until she whimpers.

“Don’t waste time, _gardener_ ,” Draco sneers. “Make her come. Make her come _now_.”

Neville drives two fingers deep inside of Lily, and she cries out in response, pressing down against him. His thumb flicks roughly over her clit, his other hand palming her breast, squeezing as the nipple tightens. She leans forward, rocking against his thumb and the heel of his hand, and he leans up just enough to catch her other breast in his mouth, sucking hard. Another deep stroke of his fingers, and she shudders suddenly, shaking with little gasping, mewling cries. Neville strokes her through the orgasm. 

He feels the heat of Draco’s breath against his cheek as he leans in. A mouth finds Neville’s throat, and he moans, aching for more. His body arches, reaching, and he is rewarded when Lily Luna wraps her hand around his prick and positions him to slide inside of her wet warmth. He wants to finish and fill her, but he knows they are far from done with him. Lily rocks slowly, her hips bearing down on him, taking him deep. Her hands are pressed against his chest, and she smiles slightly, a tiny secretive grin as if she knows something he doesn’t.

This is either very good, or very bad, or knowing Lily Luna, a little of each.

“You want to fill her up, don’t you?” Draco stretches out beside Neville on the damp earth, sucking at the tender skin of his throat. “You want to put your lowly gardner spunk inside my wife,” he murmurs. “You want to fuck her because she’s mine, and you want to give her a little lowblood baby.”

Neville’s slow movements stutter, but he can’t stop, not now, not with Lily riding him like this. Baby? He looks at Lily, but her eyes are closed, that slight smile still lifting the corners of her lips.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Draco pulls away, moving behind Lily Luna until he is just another swath of charcoal robes and flashes of pale skin. But Neville can see those flashes, and watches as Draco pulls his robes open just enough to reveal his hard prick, the tip wet with need. “We’re going to fuck her together.”

Draco lifts Lily’s robes so that Neville can see himself disappearing between her lips as she rolls forward with a moan. “We’re going to fuck her together,” Draco says quietly, fingers splayed across Lily’s flat stomach. “And we’re going to come inside of her, and when her belly swells, I won’t know if it’s my pureblood baby or if it’s your gardener brat.”

Oh dear Merlin, but _that_ sounds sodding brilliant.

When Neville looks at her again, Lily’s eyes are wide open and bright green, crinkled slightly at the corners and he knows _this_ is what she was thinking before. _This_ is what she had in mind. And he knows that she has prepared and that this is her brief moment of asking, where he could break role and stop if he wanted.

He doesn’t want to stop.

Instead he holds her robes out of the way for Draco, Neville’s dirty fingernails scraping along Lily’s skin. Neville loves this moment when Draco joins him, pressing into Lily, stretching her wide with both their pricks filling one hole. His fingernails dig in, clinging to Lily as Neville tries to keep his orgasm at bay, but it won’t be long. Neville can never hold on long like _this_ , not when Draco thrusts, his prick dragging along Neville’s, filling Lily. Her eyes go wide, then flutter almost closed as her head goes back. She leans forward and Neville sucks in one small tit just as Draco thrusts; Lily screams when she goes over the edge.

Her muscles clench down around him and Neville can’t hold back any longer. He groans as he loses control, spurting thickly into her. Draco’s thrusts become erratic and then he joins Neville, their fluids mixing inside of her.

Lily curls on Neville’s chest, limp with pleasure, and Draco curls around her. Neville nudges a kiss and Lily gives him one first, then Draco, the last full of heat, long and lingering. Neville smiles at what he knows is an apology.

“Gardener _brat_?” Neville asks, a low laugh underlining his words.

“You know he loves you.” Lily nuzzles his throat. “And I think we’ll be able to guess who the dad is for any of our babies just by looking, if they take after either of you. Unless they have red hair. Then it’s anyone’s guess.”

Draco rolls off and they cradle Lily Luna between them. Neville can’t stop touching her, him, both of them… the idea of having children is something they have talked about in the vaguest of terms. Until Lily Luna came into their lives, it was something Neville had assumed would never happen, when it was just him and Draco together. “Are we truly having babies?” he asks slowly.

“Of course we are.” Draco sounds amused. “We rather thought it would make a nice surprise for you.”

Because Neville is the one who wants them most. Draco doesn’t care whether the Malfoy line continues or not, not anymore, not since the war made the idea of blood so distasteful. And Lily Luna is still young and free-spirited. But Neville… Neville has always wanted a family, and while he has his lovers, he has wanted children to raise in the way that his parents couldn’t raise him. His chest aches with the idea that he will be able to do so.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“We’ll have to wait and see how many babies it is,” Lily muses, giggling. “I might have overdone the fertility spell, just a bit. But I’d so love to have twins, one from each of you.”

“Lily…” Draco’s voice is low and dangerous.

“What?” She is the picture of wanton innocence. “We did discuss a large family. Two at once would be a lovely start. Although I think we ought to try again, several times, just to be absolutely certain I’m pregnant. How long did you say your parents would be out of country?”

“Until Sunday,” Draco replies. “Why? I take it you enjoy being lady of the Manor?”

“Just for play.” Lily giggles again. “Really, I just like fucking the gardener.”

“That,” Neville points out as he pulls her in for a long kiss, “you can do any time you want.”


End file.
